Shenanigans
by xshamrockx
Summary: A oneshot humour fic. The author forgets to add a bibliography to his history homework and it's up to Les Amis to save the day! Comic hilarity ensues...we hope. Implied slashinessD


**((My first humour fan fiction! I apologize for it being so long, I wanted to make it a one shot and I created a monster. I hope you enjoy it! This fan fiction is dedicated to my friend Eponine but she was witness to the original adventure. :) – Shammy))**

It was a somewhat normal day in the Café Musain. Les Amis were having a grand old time plotting their revolution. They were all in relatively good spirits.

Enjolras was content to know that the elusive Patron-Minette had assassinated all his fan girls. Well… at least he thought so.

Joly had announced that he was disease free, except for his sore knee, strep throat, a possibility of going blind, and a developing case of a severe head cold.

Jehan was working on a lovely new poem, Grantaire was about to break his latest record on his 16th bottle of wine, and Feuilly was reading a new book about Poland.

Bossuet was having a relatively good day as well, having only had two near death experiences. Bahorel was playing solitaire and winning, relieved for once the other player hadn't caught him cheating. Combeferre was also rather content because he didn't have any annoying specks of dirt on his glasses. (It just goes to show, happiness is all about the little things!) Courfeyrac was taking a nap, resting his head on his arms while his leader continued talking, having already rambled on for three novel worthy pages.

Indeed, everyone was happy. Even the author, who had just settled down to write his next chapter for his first official fan fic, 'Come What May,' and epic tale about love, evil and-

At this point, two things happened. The readers rolled their eyes for the shameless advertising and cut him off, and the author froze in mid sentence. A look of panic wracked his features.

"Oh-" Sensing a fit of swearing from the writer, Feuilly, who was nearest to Jehan, dropped his book and clamped his hands over the innocent ears as the author exploded in a fit of cursing that could have put an irritated flush over a certain inspector's face.

On the other side of the room, the author's friend (who we shall call Eponine for posterity. Though it may be noted that she was not the actual Eponine) looked up worriedly.

"What's the matter?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow. The author, whom the students called Marius (though it may be noted that he was not the actual Marius) sighed heavily slumping behind his laptop. Some of you may be happen to be pondering how 20th century teenagers could be back in the 18th century, especially with laptops and internet connections. You have several options.  
A) Suspend your beliefs for the remainder of the fic  
B) Stop reading

C) Go with the real reason, which is, of course, magic!

Back to the developing of the rather useless, simple and random plot. 'Marius' was busy sighing heavily and slumping behind his laptop.

"Remember that history essay? The one I had to write about the Great Depression?" 'Eponine' merely nodded, so he continued…after a special bulletin from the author.

(A special bulletin from the author: ** "Seeing as there is neither the real Eponine nor Marius appearing in this fic, the use of quotations around their names will be discontinued, mainly because I'm lazy. Thank you.") **

Courfeyrac sat up with wide eyed surprise at the boldness of the bulletin and let out a shrill, "What the hell was that!" He was completely disregarded because the plot was being slowed by all the detail which has no real place in humour fan fiction.

So Marius continued talking.

"Well my essay… it needs a bibliography." The room fell silent.

Jehan took the liberty to cover his own ears as the rest of the Amis cursed, some more loudly than others. Marius had been working at the essay tirelessly, and when he wrote he talked to himself...aloud. **("Yes, that sounds about right," xshamrockx agreed with himself, his cat Gisquet gave him an irritated look and went back to napping.)** Quite frankly, they were tired of the shenanigans. Especially because shenanigans were not very French…and they did nothing for the republic.

Enjolras sidled over to the youth with a stern look.

"Look here…Uhm…Marius. We've put up long enough with your unFrench shenanigans. They don't do anything for the republic." He added in a harsh tone. "So get the damn thing done." Grantaire burst into a fit of applause, rocking back tipsily on his chair.

"Apollo! It's the shortest speech we've heard from you…ever!" The revolutionary leader turn a stony eyed gaze on the wine cask, and was surprised to see it had no effect whatsoever.

Marius looked at Eponine who shrugged.

"I agree with Enjy-" There was a sharp hiss as Enjolras whirled on the two teenagers at the use of the nickname, "just get it done."

The author turned a shade of red that could have matched a flower in a certain dandy's buttonhole.

"I don't know how."  
"Ah," said Courfeyrac with a slight grin, "and then came the day when they realized Marius…was stupid."

"Oh dear," murmured Combeferre in agreement.

"My history teacher is going to kill me!" The troubled youth moaned, collapsing on the floor in a fit of dramatic (and fan fictional humour.)

Les Amis paled again. The author had a terrible habit of breaking into song and horrible Les Mis parodies. They all winced as sure enough, an instrumental interlude began from the somewhere, accompanied by some tastefully done dramatic lighting. Weird things happened when Marius and Eponine came around. Like their ability to use tunes from the future, like 'A Little Fall of Rain.'

Marius put a dramatic hand to his forehead, writhing pathetically on the floor.

"Don't you fret, mam'selle 'Ponine, there's nothing left to gain… this bibliography, will surely have me slain…" Clutching his side, he reached his hand out to Eponine, oblivious to the fits of stifled laughter from the Amis around him. He continued on.

"No need to keep me safe, I have my coffin chose," Combeferre murmured something about bad grammar and shook his head, "there's nothing left for me, I know."

Eponine gave Combeferre a scolding smack on his arm.  
"He's trying!" However, she'd missed her own entry cue, and Marius promptly gave up his musical number, collapsing on the floor with one final dramatic wretch. He was dead.

"Oh come now," Bahorel said skeptically. "No one dies from not doing their school assignments! It's not possible!" He looked over at Joly who was either nodding or using his neck muscles in case they paralyzed for any reason whatsoever.

"He's right. It is impossible." Yet, no breath left or entered Marius's lungs and his heart sent no blood through his veins.

"Apparently not." Grantaire muttered. "If he's dead does that mean we get to be in charge now?"

"He was never in charge of us in the first place!" Enjolras snapped with a pout, "He was not fit to be a leader."

"Enjolras, stop pouting or I'll kiss you." Eponine threatened. The stern rebel immediately pulled a straight face and retreated to the corner to sulk in the shadows. She grinned with satisfaction.

"The only threat that would work on Enjy." Her amusement was somewhat put out by the fact that her Les Miserables roleplay partner was dead.

"Maybe…" Feuilly mused, "If we did the bibliography for him…He would come back to life?" Courfeyrac eyed the moody Enjolras in the corner and grinned roguishly, jumping to his feet. He's always wanted to see what it felt like to be in charge.

"Excellent idea Feuilly! Get the boy's notes. You will find the sources…I will dictate, and Jehan will record." He said with a grin.

"What about me?" Grantaire asked, "What would you have me do, Apollo? Well... new Apollo…"

"Apollo?" Enjolras's anguish voice sounded from the corner. "That was my nickname! Courfeyrac, you stole my nickname!" He accused.

"Enjolras, stop accusing people or it'll be Grantaire who kisses you." Eponine interjected.

Surprisingly, the only one who looked truly disturbed by this information was Enjolras.

Meanwhile, Feuilly was furiously searching a stack of papers for sources, while Courfeyrac began to dictate to Jehan.

"I believe…that Grantaire, you may sit there and drink more… And I believe , it would be best to start with putting 'Bibliography by Marius Pontmercy' at the top of the page." He thought aloud.

"That can't be the boy's real name." Combeferre said logically, "Just put 'bibliography' down Jehan."

"Though you have to admit, he does remind you of Pontmercy. He's always mooning over some grisette named Montparnasse!" Enjolras added from the corner. Everyone shifted a little trying to hide their laughter, and Joly coughed into his hand.

"Excellent point 'Ferre." The medical student said with a crooked smile, "You'll make a great leader like Courfeyrac someday!" Enjolras let out a yelp from the corner.

"He get's my nickname AND my title?"

"Grantaire, if you please-" Eponine began with a somewhat evil smirk. Patron-Minette had not killed off the slash fangirls and several of them giggled happily at their computer screens as the fan fiction continued.

"No no! I'll be quiet, I swear!" Enjolras cried, cringing as he saw Grantaire leap almost too eagerly from the chair and then sit back down with a pout.

Behind the bickering of the drunk, the questionably former leader and Eponine, Feuilly, Courfeyrac and Jehan were working furiously. Yet, no matter how hard they worked, the next statement was unbelievable.

"We're done!" announced Feuilly, taking the still wet paper from Jehan with a dramatic flourish that reminded the others oddly of Marius's strange parody.

"That's more impossible than the boy dying because of unfinished homework!" Bahorel exclaimed stubbornly.

"It's not unfinished anymore!" Courfeyrac said with a beam of triumph. Marius sat up, eyes wide.

"What happened!" He cried, his eyes wide. "I only remember Eponine missing her parody cue-"

"Oh, now this is just getting ridiculous." Joly said with a shake of his head. Bossuet nodded in agreement, but blew into his handkerchief.

"I love happy endings!" He said with a stifled sob. Suddenly both he and the hypochondriac were sobbing frantically into each others shoulders. (The slashies all let out one high pitched squeal of sympathy and swoon.) Surpisingly, the only one who seemed disturbed by this was Enjolras.  
"Erm…am I missing something?" They all ignored him, which of course did not suit him at all. "Enough of these Shenanigans! They're unFrench and they do nothing for the republic!" He demanded angrily, though no one still paid him heed.

"How did you get my bibliography done so fast?" Marius asked, raising an eyebrow at the shifty looking Feuilly, Jehan and Coufeyrac. Eponine grinned slightly, gazing up from the screen of the laptop.

"I've got question that may answer yours Marius. Jehan, who taught you how to use Google?"

"I've got an even better question!" Enjolras demanded. He made great show of leaping onto a nearby chair, pleased to have the attention back on him. "How is it possible for Marius to come back from the dead?" He demanded, turning his best Enjy-glare on the youth, and then on the author for using the nickname. To everyone's surprise, Jehan provided the reply.

"Magic of course, it was magic all along." He said with a gentle smile. Enjolras raised an eyebrow looking extremely irritated, but not about to take it out upon the poet. It would be like ripping the arm off a teddy bear. You just didn't do it. Unless you were named Montparnasse, happened to read a certain comment in this fan fic, and owned a xshamrockx bear.

"There's no such thing as magic! Even Grantaire knows that!" Enjolras said, directing the comment at no one in particular. From his table, Grantaire laughed, swallowing something that definitely wasn't wine.

"Yes there is, Apollo." He said with a smirk. "Just ask the Green Fairy!"

"Grantaire!" Combeferre scolded. "There may be children reading this." Courfeyrac laughed as Grantaire looked repentant and nodded.

"Sorry…Remember mes enfants, never drink absinthe without trying wine first! One step at a time!"

Combeferre groaned and slouched in his chair, some days it was better not to try.

Marius looked oddly pensieve, "I know exactly what we need to finish off this fan fiction! We need to finish off the parody!"

But by then all the readers had run away in terror.


End file.
